


To Escape the Night's End

by voxanonymi (spasmodicIntrigue)



Series: for all the nights we couldn't sleep [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (depending on what the drinking age is in your country), Coming of Age, Dorks, Drunken Shenanigans, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Post-Brotherhood, Slice of Life, Underage Drinking, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spasmodicIntrigue/pseuds/voxanonymi
Summary: And that was how Noctis found himself standing anxiously in the corner of the living room in the house of some classmate he couldn’t remember the name or face of, fingers wrapped around the neck of a near-full bottle of beer, eyes scanning the crowded room for a tell-tale flash of blond hair.House parties are fine, but milkshakes are better. Noctis only agreed to come because it seemed to mean so much to Prompto. But, hey—there's more to the night than this house full of drunk students.





	To Escape the Night's End

**Author's Note:**

> I've you've ever read my stuff before, this is... pretty different from my usual kind of fic. That being said, I love trying new things, and so I had fun with this! And it really is supposed to be fun, so I hope you have fun with it, too. :)
> 
> A note on the underage drinking tag: the drinking age (technically purchasing age) in my country is 18, and in this fic Noct and Promoto are 19 and 18 respectively. But, the age in Japan is 20, and Insomnia is based on Tokyo. And of course, I know the age in the U.S. is 21. It's an international grey area so I tagged it just to be safe. Also, the drinking itself is a very small part. More of a mention than a depiction.

Going to the party was Prompto’s idea.

Because of course it was. Prompto was always going on about how he couldn’t understand why Noctis turned down ninety-nine percent of the party invitations he got. Noctis, meanwhile, couldn’t understand why his friend was so bothered by it.

“I don’t know. I just prefer, like, hanging out and playing video games or whatever,” Noctis explained one afternoon over curly fries at his and Prompto’s favourite country-style diner. “Without having to worry about talking to people you barely know. Or having someone throw up on your shoes.”

“Oh, come on. That guy wasn’t _aiming_ for your shoes,” Prompto said, as if intention would get the smell of vomit out of those poor shoes. Those had been comfortable shoes, too. “I like our gaming hangouts, too, but come on! Parties are fun. They’re part of the quintessential university experience, Noct! Everyone gets a little drunk, loosens up, shares their deepest insecurities, makes new friends for life, moves up another rung on the social hierarchy…”

“I don’t think I really need nor want to go any higher.”

“Yeah, of course you don’t, _your Highness_ , but, uh, hello? What about me?”

“What about you? Why do you care?”

“Why do I—ugh, Noct! When you say things like that it really shows how sheltered you are. You’ve never had reason to care about social status, because you’ve always been top of the dogpile. Meanwhile, I’m just… well. Me.” Prompto shrugged, twirling a curly fry around his index finger.

“What’s wrong with being you?” Noctis asked.

Prompto fixed him with a dour look. “Well, being the Prince’s best friend somehow doesn’t earn me many social ladder brownie points.”

“Oh, so you’re my friend for the elevated status?”

“Only partly. But so far it’s just brought me misfortune where girls are concerned.” He let the curly fry slide off his finger onto the laminate table top, then dramatically plonked his chin into his hand and let out a forlorn sigh. “It’s a hard life, Noct.”

Noctis snorted. “Alright, okay. Fine. If it means so much to you, we can go to that party this weekend.”

Prompto straightened, nearly knocking over his milkshake, a triumphant grin splitting his face. “Knew you’d come around, buddy!”

Noctis still couldn’t understand _why_ going to some house party meant so much to his friend. He just smiled and rolled his eyes.

 

And that was how Noctis found himself standing anxiously in the corner of the living room in the house of some classmate he couldn’t remember the name or face of, fingers wrapped around the neck of a near-full bottle of beer, and eyes calmly ( _calmly_ ) scanning the crowded room for a tell-tale flash of blond hair.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he and Prompto had gotten separated. It was cruel irony, really. Prompto was Noctis’ plus one, and yet he seemed to mesh much better with these people than Noctis did—especially with a couple of beers and vodka shots in his belly. Alcohol wasn’t referred to as a social lubricant for no reason. Noctis just wished it worked that way for him.

They had rules for when they went to house parties together—and they never went to parties without one another. In fact, that was rule number one: stick together. Rule number two was a little more complicated. It stated that initially they had to match each other drink for drink, shot for shot. As soon as one of them (Noctis) fell behind, he was honour-bound to stop drinking for the rest of the night to make sure the other (Prompto) maintained some shred of dignity as the night progressed, i.e., didn’t end up throwing up all over someone’s shoes. To use a totally random example.

Noctis wasn’t really a fan of alcohol. Besides all the usual reasons to dislike it, it tended to dull his connection to the Crystal, and, therefore, weaken his magic. The connection wasn’t something he could consciously _feel_ , per se. It was more noticeable in its absence—like a limb. Not that Noctis knew what it was like to be missing a limb, but he could imagine.

The feeling of being distanced from his magic reminded him of stasis, which was a state he preferred to avoid, and so it went that he didn’t like being drunk. Not to mention, they technically still weren’t old enough to drink. The age had been raised from eighteen to twenty a few years ago, but some liquor stores seemed to ignore the law change at risk of their business licences. Many first- and second-year university students—Prompto included—seemed to know exactly which stores those were. They were the worst kept secrets of the Insomnian nightlife.

Anyway, there were only those two rules, and Prompto had broken the first one. Noctis had done pretty well this time, he thought, matching Prompto for the first two beers (which were gross) and two rounds of vodka shots (which were worse). After the second shot, Noctis conceded defeat and closed his eyes to centre himself. When he opened them, Prompto was gone. Then Noctis was distracted by a tall red-haired dude coming towards him.

“Yo! Prince Noctis!” the dude slurred, stumbling over his own feet a little as he approached. “This one’s on me!” He shoved a pre-opened bottle of beer into Noctis’ unwilling hands.

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Noctis said—shouted, rather, over the ribcage-rattling thump of the music.

The red-haired guy either didn’t hear or didn’t care, giving Noctis’ shoulder a clumsy bro-punch before stumbling off again.

And that was how Noctis found himself standing anxiously in the corner of the living room in the house of some classmate he couldn’t remember the name or face of, holding a bottle of beer he didn’t want, and desperately looking around the room for some glimpse of his traitorous best friend. The alcohol was wreaking its havoc on him, making everything seem too fast and too slow; loud and numb; bright and fuzzy around the edges. Everything was a little bit watery, especially thinking.

The noise-wall of bass-heavy house music didn’t help. Why was it so damn loud? Was that necessary? He was sure it wasn’t this loud when he and Prompto had arrived. Did someone turn the volume up because everyone was talking over it, which meant everyone had to talk louder to be heard, which meant the music was turned up even more?

He realised he could just call Prompto. With his phone. He pawed said phone out of his pocket, squinting at the screen as he accidentally opened and closed his contacts three times before finally finding Prompto’s name and successfully hitting ‘call.’

Thankfully, Prompto answered after only a couple of rings. “Noct!” he shouted over the phone, followed by a string of words which Noctis couldn’t hear properly. Either that, or Prompto had learned to speak the Ancient Tongue and chosen now of all times to practice.

“What?” Noctis shouted. “Where are you?”

More unintelligible words, further obscured by a shriek of laugher in the background, “—are _you_?”

“Where am I?” Noctis repeated.

“WHERE. ARE. YOU?” Prompto bellowed.

“In the living room!”

“WHERE?

“THE LIVING ROOM!”

“THE WHAT ROOM?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—Meet me in the bathroom!”

“WHERE?”

“THE BATHROOM! MEET ME IN THE BATHROOM!”

“The _bathroom_?”

“YES!”

“Okay! Stop shouting! I’m in the hall now, I can hear you _fine_ , Noct.”

“Oh. Okay. Be there in a sec.”

“Miss you!”

“ _Fuck_ you, you traitor!”

Then Noctis hung up on him. Retribution was attained.

_Why did I tell him to meet me in the bathroom?_ He wondered. He supposed it was just the first room that came to mind when he’d thought of somewhere that might be quiet.

There were no tables nearby, so Noctis set the bottle of beer down on the floor, right in the corner so no one would kick it over. Then he tried to remember which direction the hall was in—to the left, he was pretty sure, but that tall red-haired dude was over there, so he figured he’d better go the long way around.

After many repetitions of “excuse me” and “sorry” and a single “oops,” Noctis finally found himself in the comparatively deserted hallway. There was a couple making out in the doorway to the kitchen, completely oblivious to anything beyond each other as the Crown Prince tiptoed past them to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The door was closed, so he figured Prompto was holding down the fort and walked in without knocking.

“Holy shit, Noct!” Prompto yelped, hurriedly zipping up his pants. “Did you never learn to knock before entering at any point during your royal upbringing?”

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, peeing? This _is_ a bathroom.”

Noctis blinked. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that someone might actually be using the facilities. Thankfully it was only Prompto, otherwise that could have been _embarrassing_. “I guess that makes sense.”

“More sense than you telling me to meet you in a bathroom.” He swatted the toilet lid closed and hit the flush. “Weirdo.”

“I hate parties,” Noctis said simply, closing the door and leaning against it. The roar of music and conversation faded to a dull rumble. He sighed in relief.

“You didn’t _have_ to come,” Prompto said, unable to hide the shit-eating grin on his face as he washed his hands.

“I hate you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

“You broke the rule, Prompto! We have rules for a reason!”

Prompto gave Noctis a quizzical look as he dried his hands. “Geez, Noct, how much have you had?”

“Uhh, the same as you? Two beers, two shots of vodka—”

“Wait, _two_ shots? I only had one.”

“What? You didn’t do the second one?”

“Well, I was gonna, but then Max wanted to show me his new lens kit. I’m kinda jealous of it, by the way, if you were wondering what to get me for my birthday next month.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“That second shot’ll fuck you up.”

“Every time.”

“Every time,” Prompto laughed.

Noctis had been sliding down the door without noticing, so when he did notice he gave into the downward sliding until he was sitting on the floor. His head was spinning, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“You are such a lightweight,” said Prompto, sitting down against the cupboard under the sink, facing Noctis. It wasn’t exactly a large bathroom—they could easily kick each other in the shins right now—but Noctis decided he much preferred being in here than out there.

“Don’t leave me alone at parties. Not ever,” Noctis said, leaning his head back against the door. “That’s,” he held out a commanding finger, “a _royal fucking decree_ , Argentum.”

Prompto grinned. “Very well, _your_ _Highness_.”

“Good.” Noctis smiled. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“When you say ‘your Highness.’ The way you say it.”

“Oh. Huh. I don’t know. I guess it’s just weird to think of _my_ best friend as the honest-to-god Crown Prince of Lucis,” Prompto said thoughtfully. “Makes me feel… insufficient. By comparison.”

Noctis frowned. “That’s stupid.”

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

“You’re better at parties than me.”

“Wow, high praise!” But he did seem pleased. Or maybe it was Noctis’ drunken imagination.

He hated being drunk.

“I know you do,” said Prompto.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

“Want me to get you a glass of water? Call Ignis to come pick us up?”

Noctis shook his head vehemently—which proved to be a mistake, spawning a pinpoint ache right above his left temple. “Iggy doesn’t need to know about this.”

Prompto cocked his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call him ‘Iggy’ before.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he’s a man of many nicknames, but don’t you usually go for ‘Specs’ or something?”

Noctis had never really given it much conscious thought. “Hmm. I guess.” He closed his eyes.

“You okay?”

“Spinning.”

“Ah. Water?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna have to get out of the way of the door.”

“No.”

Prompto sighed. “Okay. No water for you, then.”

“I have one,” Noctis said, cracking an eye open and grinning. “A bottle of water.”

“In the Armiger?”

Noctis nodded. He always kept at least one bottle of water in the Armiger, just in case. Actually, he kept a lot of things in the Armiger, because it was more convenient than carrying a bag, and he tended to leave bags behind in arcades and diners. On days he didn’t have classes or other formal obligations which wouldn’t lend themselves very well to intermittent miniature light shows, he kept pretty much everything he didn’t have a spare pocket for in the Armiger. He tended not to risk putting his phone in there, though—technology and magic weren’t too friendly with each other.

He held a hand out in front of him, clenching his eyes shut again and struggling to push through the tipsy haze so he could conjure the bottle of water. He felt a flicker, a cool tingle of magic at his fingertips, but couldn’t break through the cotton around his mind.

“No luck?” Prompto asked.

“I hate being drunk.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

Noctis struggled to his feet and leant over Prompto to get to the basin, turning on the cold tap.

“Are you seriously going to—”

He stuck his head into the sink and let the water run into his mouth.

“Gross, dude.”

Noctis swallowed and wiped his mouth. “What? Water is water, right?”

“Yeah, but this is a _bathroom_.”

“It’s not like I’m drinking out of the toilet.”

“I mean… you might as well be.”

“Do you brush your teeth with water from the toilet?”

“What? No! Of course I don’t!”

“So bathroom sink water is acceptable for brushing your teeth, but not for drinking?”

Prompto blinked up at Noctis. “This argument feels… backwards.”

Noctis stepped back and leaned against the door again. “Backwards?”

Before Prompto could answer, someone pounded loudly on the door from outside, making them both jump.

“Hurry the fuck up in there!” a voice called. Low. Male. Impatient.

Noctis and Prompto stared mutely at each other. Somehow, they hadn’t anticipated that other people might want to use the bathroom.

Discreetly, Noctis reached one hand up to the doorknob and turned the lock. This was _their_ fort, and they were holding it.

Prompto’s solution, meanwhile, was to open his mouth and let out the lewdest sound Noctis had ever heard out of his best friend: a loud, prolonged, impressively feminine moan.

“Aw, hell,” said the voice outside. “At least clean up when you’re done!” Then Noctis could hear agitated footsteps fading away as the guy retreated.

He and Prompto stared at each other for a second, before simultaneously exploding into tipsy hysterics. Noctis slid to the floor again, holding his sides as peals of laughter rolled through him. Prompto fell _onto_ his side, his face disappearing behind the base of the toilet. Between bursts of laugher, he gasped out, “I can’t believe I did that! Why did I do that? I can’t believe I did that!”

“That was _awful_!” Noctis wheezed, once he’d calmed down a bit. He looked up at the bathroom’s single frosted-glass awning window beside the toilet. “You think we can fit through there?”

Prompto pushed himself up, glancing bemusedly at the window. “Why?”

“Well we can’t leave this bathroom through the door, or people might see us coming out together and think…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Prompto’s eyes widened until another snort of laughter escaped him.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” he squeaked. “Okay, okay. We have to leave through the window. I can’t risk having Marina think I’m exclusively gay. That would _completely_ ruin my chances with her.”

Noctis didn’t bother to tell him that he didn’t have much of a chance with Marina anyway. Especially since he’d just seen her making out with some dude in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure. I was more thinking that if someone starts a rumour which ends up as a headline, I’ll have a _lot_ of uncomfortable explaining to do,” he said. “ ‘No, dad, Prompto’s not my boyfriend, we were just hanging out at a party. In the bathroom. Slightly drunk, even though we’re not of age.’ ”

Prompto grimaced. “Ah, right. There is that.”

“Not that I don’t find you attractive,” Noctis said, punctuating the joke with a wink. “You’re just not really my type.”

“Gee, thanks,” Prompto replied. “It’s fine. My feelings aren’t hurt. Hooking up with a prince has too many strings attached. Not that I’d say no.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Noctis facepalmed. “Okay. That’s enough of that.” Prompto could out-flirt him any day, and they both knew it—mostly because Noctis tended to get uncomfortable when it got too suggestive (which it invariably did, rapidly), and Prompto _fed_ off that discomfort. “Okay. We should, uh,” he glanced up at the window again, “leave.” They could _probably_ fit through. With some effort and determination.

“Alrighty!” Prompto pulled himself to his feet and leant over to examine the window. “Lucky we’re on the ground floor,” he said, pulling up the latch and pushing the window out as far as it would go. The gap was just big enough for them to climb through, although the shrubs below the window looked a bit scratchy and unfriendly.

“Small mercies,” Noctis said. Now that some time had passed, he was rapidly sobering up. He suspected that all the laughing might have helped work it off faster, though he still felt a little breathless and giddy from all that; ready to burst out into a fit of giggles at the slightest provocation. Like, if Prompto were to trip while climbing out the window. He grinned. “Go on, then,” he said.

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Prompto said suspiciously. Nonetheless, he lifted one leg out the window, followed by the other, until he was sort of sitting on the window sill—a little awkwardly. The way the window opened from the bottom meant he had to keep his body on a strange angle. Following that angle, he bent his knees and slid down and out, shimmying a little to get free of the window so that he could straighten up outside without risk of hitting his head. He did it all with a lot of rustling and awkward limb contortions.

It was fairly amusing to watch. Noctis had himself a good giggle. But then it was his turn, and suddenly it wasn’t quite so funny anymore.

He was halfway out the window when he realised he’d left the bathroom door locked—which was, like, _seriously_ rude of him, so he swore under his breath and clumsily pulled himself back inside, catching a foot on the windowsill and faceplanting onto the floor. He knocked his chin on the tiles and bit his tongue. “Ow, fuck!” he swore loudly, clapping a hand to his mouth.

“What are you _doing_?” Prompto hissed from outside.

“I can’t leave the door locked!” Noctis explained, voice muffled by his hand as he laboriously pulled himself up. “That would be a dick move.”

He unlocked the door and then climbed out the window with no further incident. Though his tongue still hurt pretty badly.

He found himself out the side of the house, tangled in some sort of leafy shrub with a lot of tangly branches. Prompto had already extricated himself while Noctis was busy being considerate and unlocking the door, and stood leaning on the fence separating this property from the neighbour’s.

“Where to now?” he asked once Noctis had finally escaped the unrelenting grip of suburban greenery.

Noctis shrugged. “Away from here.”

“Let’s go then!”

They crept towards the front of the house, ducking low to avoid the living room window. The party music was still very much audible from out here, which made Noctis wonder why none of the neighbours had called in a noise complaint yet. Maybe they had, and he and Prompto were escaping with fortuitously good timing.

There was no one out front of the house, just a few cars haphazardly parked on the driveway and along the street curb, preventing every other from ever being able to leave. Not that many of them would be attempting to leave until morning, Noctis hoped.

“Okay, now where?” Prompto asked once they reached the footpath.

Noctis shrugged and pointed down the road. “That way?”

Prompto shrugged, and they set off along the street. “There’s a subway station near here, right?” he asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“I saw one on the way. I’m pretty sure it was this way.”

“Why, where do you want to go?”

Prompto shrugged. “We could hit up downtown?”

“Yeah? And what would we do there?”

“We could… get milkshakes? Suddenly I really want a milkshake. Oh my god, Noct! Can we go get milkshakes?”

Milkshakes _did_ sound like a good idea. There was the diner not far from their old high school that they still frequented because they served _the_ best milkshakes, in all the flavours you could ever hope for. Man, a milkshake sounded _so_ good right now. “Heck yeah, we can.”

“Yes!” Prompto punched the air. “Milkshake heaven, here we come!”

Noctis fished out his phone and checked the time. Three minutes to midnight. Relatively early. “The diner’s twenty-four/seven, right?”

“Sure is! Man, I am so ready for this milkshake. I think I’m gonna get… lemon, lime, and orange flavour.”

“A citrus milkshake? Citrus and milk really aren’t meant to go together.”

“It’s not like they just squeeze lemon juice into milk. It’s flavouring! It’s delicious! What are you gonna get?”

Noctis hummed thoughtfully. “Caramel cream soda.”

“You got that last time. And the time before.”

“So? It was good.”

They continued to bicker about milkshake flavours. Twenty minutes later, they were still walking down streets lined with primly maintained suburban houses, arguing over the worth of plain vanilla milkshakes, with no subway station in sight. Noctis’ hopes for a milkshake started to fade as he realised that they were hopelessly lost.

“I think we’re lost,” he said, stopping.

“I was just thinking that,” Prompto agreed, chewing on his lip. “What do we—ah! Hide!” He pointed at something up ahead.

Noctis squinted. Cruising up the street towards them was the distinctive form of a Crownsguard patroller, headlights on low. His heart leapt in his chest. Prompto grabbed him and pulled him behind a car parked in a nearby driveway.

The low rumble of the car grew closer, and closer, and closer, the wheels rolling over the chipseal with a gentle crackling. Then the crackling stopped. The engine stopped. The soft clunk of a door opening and closing. Footsteps, on the pavement, coming towards them.

Noctis and Prompto were frozen, crouched behind the car, as a tall, silhouetted figure came into view. They’d been found.

The Crownsguard peered at them for a moment, trying to make them out in the insufficient glow of a nearby streetlight.

“…Your Highness?” he said after a moment.

Noctis couldn’t see the Crownsguard’s face, or recognise his voice, but it was a given that all members of the Crownsguard (and/or Kingsglaive, for that matter) would recognise him. Unfortunately.

He raised a hand in greeting. “Uh, hey.”

“Um… Forgive my asking, but what are you doing out here?”

He and Prompto glanced at each other. “Walking.”

The Crownsguard’s stance relaxed. “At night? This far from home?” A note of amusement crept into his voice, and a distinctive warmth crept up Noctis’ neck.

“We got lost!” Prompto supplied. “Like, _really_ lost. Super lost.”

“Right,” said the Crownsguard. “Well, I’m sorry, your Highness, but I’d be neglecting my duties if I didn’t insist on giving you and your friend a lift. To the nearest station, at least.”

“You don’t happen to mean subway station, do you?” Prompto asked hopefully.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Noctis sighed, bracing against the car to push himself to his feet.

“I _am_ sorry,” the Crownsguard said, as they followed him back to his car, “but my job could be on the line if I just left you here.”

“It’s fine,” Noctis said airily, getting into the backseat as the Crownsguard held the door open for him, sliding over to make room for Prompto.

“It’s not fine, is it?” Prompto hissed at him.

Noctis shook his head.

The Crownsguard got into the driver’s seat and started up the car. “We’ll have to make a stop on the way, I’m afraid,” he said. “There’s been a noise complaint about a house party in the area.”

Prompto looked at Noctis, who refused to look at him, trying to communicate with his posture: _don’t say a word._ Prompto seemed to get the message, and joined Noctis in non-suspiciously staring straight ahead.

“You should probably call or text one of your retainers,” the Crownsguard advised, as the car cruised past darkened houses, passing under orange street lights, “to come pick you up at the southeast station.” He glanced at Prompto in the rear view. “Um, do you have parents to call…?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Noctis said, pulling out his phone and pretending to text. “He’s with me.”

The Crownsguard nodded. “Right.”

Predictably, they came to a stop in front of the very house Noctis and Prompto had absconded from not half an hour earlier. The music was audible even from inside the car, the thumping bass seeming to shake the road itself.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” the Crownsguard said, getting out of the car, walking up the driveway, up the porch steps, and knocking on the front door.

Noctis looked at Prompto. “Let’s go.” He opened the car door as quietly as he could and slipped out into the street, Prompto close behind him. They didn’t bother to close the door, creeping to the front of the car and peering around it to make sure the Crownsguard wasn’t paying attention. The house’s front door cracked open. A definitive distraction. They dashed off down the street, keeping in a crouch to avoid detection.

As soon as they were out of view of the house, they broke into a sprint, ill-appropriate canvas shoes smacking against the pavement. For the second time that night, they were breaking out of the gravitational pull of that blasted party. They took the first turn they came to and kept on running.

“Freedom!” Prompto whooped, sticking both arms up in the air as if he’d just won a race.

“Shh!” Noctis hissed breathlessly. “People are sleeping!”

“Oh, shit! Sorry people!” Prompto stage-whispered.

A laugh bubbled up Noctis’ throat, and he had to stop and double over, hands on knees, panting from exertion, and laughing from the deadly combination of adrenaline and Prompto. Prompto had the uncanny ability to make him laugh until he couldn’t breathe, and he already couldn’t breathe from the running.

“Is it really okay that we just did that?” Prompto asked in apparent amazement, glancing back in the direction they’d come. “He _did_ say his job was on the line.”

Noctis straightened. “If he’s dumb enough to mention he saw me, maybe he _deserves_ to lose his job.” He felt bad saying it, but… it was true. “C’mon. Let’s find that subway station.”

“Right!” Prompto agreed with a bright grin, practically skipping as they continued on. It was _so_ not fair, how unfazed he seemed by the long sprint they’d just done. Noctis wasn’t out of shape, by any means, but his lacking stamina was an ongoing issue. Much to his chagrin.

His knee ached a bit, and his head twinged as the alcohol wore off. But the night air was crisp and refreshing, carrying the distinct aroma of autumn; of soon-to-fall leaves and recently wet asphalt. More potent than that was the taste of freedom, of breaking the rules, of not doing what he was supposed to do—but what he _wanted_ to do. He was barely nineteen. Not a kid anymore, but not so old that he should be expected to be perfect, or perfectly grown up. Not just yet.

Surely his dad would hold on for a few more years, at least. And in that time, Noctis wanted to live as much as he could, because after that, there be no more opportunities for this sort of harmless fun.

Prompto did what they should have done earlier and looked up the nearest subway station on his phone. It was a few streets away—in completely the opposite direction to where they’d been headed earlier. They walked down the road at an unhurried, not-quite leisurely pace, a few early-fallen leaves skittering across the footpath in the light breeze. Occasionally, they glanced over their shoulders to make sure the Crownsguard dude wasn’t looking for them.

“This is _way_ better than if we’d stayed at the party,” Prompto pointed out, when they finally reached the subway station.

“You can say that again,” Noctis said. “Who cares about social status, anyway?”

“It’s just nice to feel liked.”

Noctis pulled his wallet out of his back pocket to make sure he had his subway card. The station was completely deserted—which they couldn’t say they didn’t expect, since it was nearly one in the morning. “You _are_ liked.”

Prompto was checking his own wallet. “Noct, you’re my best friend. You’re supposed to say that,” he said to his subway card.

“I’m also the prince, so what I say goes,” Noctis said, tagging through the electronic gate to the platform that would take them downtown. There were no trains in sight right now, but they came every ten minutes. All they had to do was wait. “I mean, that guy at the party liked you enough to show you his new lens kit.”

“Who, Max? He’s from photography club in high school, remember? He just wanted to show off.”

Noctis shrugged. “Means he cares what you think.”

Prompto blinked, looking uncomfortably sceptical. “When did you did so… philosophical?”

“Philosophical?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Huh. Must be the alcohol.”

Noctis bought a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine, then joined Prompto on a bench on the platform to wait for the next train.

“I never really thought about how difficult it must be,” Prompto said thoughtfully as Noctis drained half of the water in one go, then passed over the bottle. “Oh, thanks.”

“How difficult what must be?”

Prompto sipped at the water. “Uh, well. Being the prince, I guess. Not really being allowed to go where you want, do what you want, whenever you want?”

“Meh, I’m used to it.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“I didn’t say that. When I was a kid, I would do anything to get away from the Citadel for a few hours.” He smiled wistfully. “The governesses and tutors would give me an earful for it, when I got caught sneaking out on my own. But Dad never once told me off. I think he understood.”

Prompto was quiet for a moment. “Is that why he let you live in the apartment, and go to public school, and stuff?”

“Maybe.” Noctis rubbed idly at his knee, at the growing ache. It was probably going to rain soon. “But, hey, it’s whatever. I get everything else practically handed to me, right?”

Prompto looked at him, expression part surprise, part… something else. Something implacable. He opened his mouth, but his response was lost in the grinding squeal of a train pulling up to the platform.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this made me miss my best friend. I drew pretty heavily from my own experiences of being an undergrad for this fic, lol. Drinking culture is honestly just... so bad. But. Y'know. We all live and learn. 
> 
> Anyway, this is part 1 in what is intended to be a 3- or 4-part series set in that barely-covered period of time between the end of Brotherhood and the beginning of the game. The main purpose is to explore Noct's relationships with each of the bros. Which was why neither Ignis nor Gladio showed up in this fic. They'll have their time to shine. ;)
> 
> You can subscribe to the series (the link to it should be below this box) if you're interested. I'm also on [tumblr](https://voxanonymi.tumblr.com/) if you prefer to get updates that way.


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